


Let Nothing You Dismay

by ConceptaDecency



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Christmas, Christmas Crackers, Fluff, Humor, Humour, M/M, Supportive Miles O'Brien
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-24
Updated: 2019-12-24
Packaged: 2021-02-26 03:29:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,327
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21936739
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ConceptaDecency/pseuds/ConceptaDecency
Summary: What are you to do when the kids want to go carolling and almost nobody on the station celebrates Christmas? Bring them to your Muslim friend and his Cardassian boyfriend, of course.
Relationships: Elim Garak & Miles O'Brien, Julian Bashir & Miles O'Brien, Julian Bashir & Molly O'Brien, Julian Bashir/Elim Garak, Miles O'Brien & Molly O'Brien
Comments: 71
Kudos: 274





	Let Nothing You Dismay

**Author's Note:**

> *19 November 2020*
> 
> Adding this note to tell you about [Star Trek: Just in Time Fest](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/justintimefest/profile), an all Star Trek, all media fan fest speculating on the role of TIME in Star Trek. 
> 
> Taking submissions from now until 8 February 2021.
> 
> First works unveiled 18 January 2021.
> 
> Click [here](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/justintimefest/profile) for more information.
> 
> Follow the [Just In Time Tumblr](https://startrekjustintime.tumblr.com) here.
> 
> I hope you'll consider participating!

Miles hesitated a moment before ringing. There was a not insignificant chance that Julian was ‘entertaining’ at this hour. Miles never came over unannounced for precisely this reason. But tradition was tradition, and the kids could sing one song and then they’d be on their way and Julian and any special friend he had over could continue with whatever they were doing. And anyway, no one was forcing Julian to answer if he was otherwise occupied.

He pressed the button. 

“Who is it?” Julian called, almost immediately. So he wasn’t _that_ busy, then.

“Miles. And Molly. And the Petersen boys.” All the same, Miles thought it best to make the kids’ presence very, very clear before Julian opened the door. 

“Oh! Right! Just a moment!” The door swept open to reveal a slightly confused Julian, wrapped in a shiny blue and gold thing that even Miles could tell was tasteless. The room behind him was atmospherically lit, about 40 per cent normal station levels, if his engineer’s eye was any judge. A couple of candles flickered away on shelves, and what appeared to be the remains of dinner for two sat on the table. They were definitely interrupting.

“Hello kids, Miles." Julian's confused look was replaced with a grin as he took in the sight before him — Molly and her two friends dressed in red and wearing red and green stocking caps with bells on the tassels, and Miles in a badly-fitting knitted jumper with a stylised red-nosed reindeer on the front. “Don't tell me it's Christmas already!” 

Miles shrugged apologetically. “Sorry, Julian. I know you don’t do Christmas, but the kids wanted to go carolling.” And as not many people on the station would be even passingly familiar with the custom, he’d had no choice but to come to Julian. At least Julian had been raised in a part of the world that still maintained some Christmas traditions. Miles had gambled on him being able to recognise Christmas carolling when he saw it.

“That’s no problem!” It genuinely was no problem, if Julian’s delighted face was anything to go by. “Garak! Come here! Speaking of Earth traditions!” 

Wait, Garak? Had Julian finally...? Or were they just...? Miles didn’t have time to even frame the question properly in his mind before the Cardassian slipped into the doorway beside Julian. And stood very close to him.

“Chief, children,” Garak nodded. “How bright and festive you all look. And what must I do to correctly observe this tradition?” 

“The customary greeting is ‘Merry Christmas’,” said Julian, settling his hand lightly on Garak’s lower back. “And then you just listen.” 

“Ah. Then, _M_ _erry Christmas_ , Chief, children. Doctor.”

Julian, Molly, and the boys returned the greeting in a round of _merry Christmases_ , to which Miles belatedly chimed in. Then the children launched into their song. 

“Well done,” said Julian when they’d finished and the adults had all clapped their appreciation. “Would you like to come in?” 

“Christ, Julian, you don’t have to do that,” said Miles. Surely Julian was eager to get back to whatever he and Garak had been up to? There was no need for him to feel obliged!

“No, really, I insist. I haven’t celebrated an Earth holiday since...Eid al-Fitr, I think. Back at the Academy. And anyway, isn’t it traditional to offer carollers sweets and hot chocolate?” This last part was directed at the children, whose faces lit up. That decided it. How could Miles say no to kids at Christmas?

“Okay, but we aren’t staying long.” 

“Fantastic!” Julian was more excited than the children. 

“You must tell me the meaning of your delightful song, Miss O’Brien,” said Garak as they all settled into Julian’s sitting room. “Who is this Santa Claus person?” 

“He’s an old man who brings presents to good kids on Christmas."

“And what did he bring you, Molly?” asked Julian from the replicator, where he was in discussion with the computer about what kinds of hot chocolate were available.

“Well, he hasn’t come yet, actually, Julian,” Molly explained. She was used to explaining Christmas to people. “It’s only Christmas Eve.” 

“Oh, is it? And do you expect a nice gift?” 

Molly nodded. “Yes. I’ve been pretty good. I play with Yoshi a lot and usually keep my room clean.” 

“I see.” Garak leaned forward. Miles wasn’t entirely pleased at the Cardassian speaking to his daughter, but Keiko claimed he was good with kids, and his question seemed harmless. “So this Mr Santa Claus only gives gifts to good children. And how does he know if you children have been good?” 

“He just watches us all the time,” piped up Aksel, the younger Petersen boy. 

“Does he?” Garak looked as if he’d been given a precious gift himself with that piece of information. “And children who aren’t good? Are they punished?” 

“I think they don’t get any presents,” said Molly, but with less confidence than before. “Daddy?” 

“Maybe, love. But Santa knows that children are good in their hearts even if they’re naughty sometimes. I’ve never heard of a child being too naughty to get a gift from Santa.” He shot a warning look at Garak. Who knew what kind of harsh, joyless childhoods Cardassian kids had, but he wasn’t about to tolerate his child being made to fear Santa.

“Fascinating.” Garak responded to Miles’ glare with an amiable smile. “Doctor, were you also rewarded for good behaviour with a gift from Mr Santa Claus when you were a child?” 

Julian, who was approaching his assembled group of guests with a tray of drinks, pastries, and Christmas crackers, laughed. “I think I know what you really want to say, Garak, and I’m sorry to disappoint you. My family had different traditions, I’m afraid. I don’t know that much about Christmas.” He set the tray down on the coffee table. “But I think I've got this right. Stollen and mince pies, kids? And you all wanted hot chocolate with extra marshmallows, didn't you?” 

The children cheered and thank-youed and set to blowing on their drinks and counting their marshmallows. Julian settled next to Garak on the sofa — close enough that their hips were brushing, Miles noted, and quite comfortable with it, too. He wondered if he should say anything, but before he could, Julian was pressing mulled wine into one hand and a mince pie into the other. Well, it was Christmas, why not? 

"I don't know if you'll like the mince pies, Garak," Julian was apologising. "They're kind of an acquired taste. Here, try a bite of mine."

"Thank you, Doctor." Garak gamely bit into Julian's pie, right over his teethmarks, and chewed thoughtfully. "Oh, no, my dear. This is quite delightful. Far better than that Swiss roll you tried to give me yesterday."

"Well, the replicated version doesn't do a Swiss roll justice," said Julian, then popped the rest of the pie into his mouth. 

"So you say. I look forward to trying the real version some day." Garak steadied himself with one hand on Julian's leg as he reached for another mince pie.

"Ahem," said Miles. "Finish up, kids. We've got to go soon."

"No, Daddy! Not yet, please!" Molly knew she wasn't to mention them until they'd been offered, but her attention was plainly focused on the pile of colourful Christmas crackers on the tray. 

"We still haven't had the Christmas crackers, Chief O'Brien," said Magnus, the elder Petersen boy, who clearly had not received the same instruction from his parents. 

"Indeed. I was wondering what we were to do with those. Are they something else to eat, Doctor?" 

"No, they're a sort of silly game."

"You hold one end and another person holds the other, and then you both pull and it bursts open.” Magnus, now that the topic had been broached, felt free to distribute the crackers to everybody. 

“I see. Thank you, Mr Petersen.” Garak accepted a purple and silver cracker from the child and turned to Miles. “And what is the significance of this practice, Chief? Is it meant to encourage citizens to work together?”

“I don’t know. It’s just fun, I suppose. The kids like the prizes inside.” He supposed they might also encourage working together. Why not? You couldn’t pop a Christmas cracker by yourself. It just wasn’t done.

“I’m doing mine with Julian,” said Molly. 

“I’ll show you how to do it, Mr Garak,” said Magnus.

“No, I want to show Mr Garak,” Aksel pouted. 

“I’m sure Mr Garak won’t mind if both of you show him,” said Miles. He was glad, at times, of the age difference between his own two. By the time Yoshi was able to talk, Molly would be too old for jealous bickering. Hopefully. 

“Of course not, Chief. Now, boys. Is it necessary to do these one at a time, or can we do both together? I have two hands, you see.” Garak held up his hands, fingers wiggling, and delivered the line so seriously that the boys fell into giggles and had to reassure him that no, it was fine to do two at once. Well, it looked like Keiko was right — Garak _was_ good with children.

“Daddy, you don’t have anybody.” Molly looked guilty at having forgotten her father. “Do you want to go with me and Julian?” 

“Sure, love.” 

The logistics sorted out, Magnus and Molly counted to three and everyone popped their crackers. 

“Mr Garak and Doctor Bashir still have theirs,” said Aksel.

“I’ll help you, Mr Garak,” Molly volunteered.

“I’ll help _you_ , Doctor Bashir,” echoed Magnus. 

“No, I want to help Doctor Bashir!” Aksel’s lip trembled. 

“I can replicate another one?” Julian, aghast at having upset a child, looked to Miles for guidance.

“No, Julian. It’s one each and that’s the tradition.” The Petersens were nice boys, but a little spoilt. “Kids, see what you got in your crackers and Mr Garak and Doctor Bashir will do theirs together.” 

“Very well.” Garak offered one end of his cracker to Julian, and Julian did the same with his. “Perhaps the younger Mr Petersen can count for us this time?” 

The final two crackers were dispatched, the paper crowns donned, and the jokes duly read and explained to Garak, who seemed oddly accepting of the tradition of deliberately unfunny jokes. Or maybe he assumed they didn’t translate. 

“Julian, do you want to hear my joke?” asked Molly.

“Of course.”

“Okay." Molly peered at her small slip of paper. "Why did the — _mistletoe_ ,” she paused at the difficult word, “go to the doctor?”

“Why?” 

“It was feeling green!”

Julian and Miles gave obligatory chuckles. Garak raised his eye ridges.

“I’m afraid I don’t understand your joke, Miss O’Brien. What is mistletoe? I recall it was in your lovely song, as well.”

“It’s a parasitic plant with green oval leaves and clusters of white berries. From Europe. That’s on Earth,” Molly added helpfully. 

“I can see you’ve been helping your mother with her work,” said Garak. “And this mistletoe, being green, felt unwell and was obliged to go to the doctor. How amusing.” 

“If you stand under the mistletoe with another person, you have to kiss them,” offered Magnus, who had been working on a mouthful of stollen up until this point.

“Ah, that explains why the mother in your song was kissing Mr Santa Claus. I had wondered. Doctor, were you aware of this curious practice?” 

Christ, the flirting. Julian had the decency to blush. “Yes, I was.” 

“A fascinating tradition. And is mistletoe associated with doctors as well as with kissing?” 

“Ehm, no, I don’t think so. That was just part of the joke.” Julian’s neck was dark. 

Enough was enough. “Kids, it’s time to go.” Three frowning faces blinked at him — no, four, Julian didn’t look pleased either. Didn’t the man know what he wanted? Typical. Well, he’d soon realise he was happy enough to be alone with Garak when they left. “Come on,” he addressed the kids, “you want to get to bed before Santa arrives, don’t you?” 

The bid to forestall complaints worked like a charm and soon the children were putting their hot chocolate mugs in the reclaimer and saying their thank-yous and merry Christmases. 

“Santa won’t come unless you’re asleep, Doctor Bashir.” Aksel, who’d taken to heart what Julian had said about not knowing much about Christmas, eyed the half-finished glasses of mulled wine on the coffee table. “You have to finish them and go to bed.”

“What an observant child.” Garak placed a hand lightly on Julian’s shoulder. “Don’t worry, Mr Petersen. I’ll make sure he goes to bed.” 

“And you too, Mr Garak.”

“Of course, Miss O’Brien, thank you. Julian and I will go to bed directly.” 

Julian wouldn’t look up from the floor, so Miles shot a stern look at Garak. Really? 

“Right, kids. Let’s go. Your mothers are waiting.” 

“Are you coming to Christmas dinner tomorrow, Julian?” Molly tugged her hat over her ears and looked up. “And you, Mr Garak? We’re having Kentucky.” Shite. Miles was torn between annoyance and pride. Julian was always welcome, but Garak? He’d have to have a word with Molly about asking before inviting people over, but he couldn’t fault her Christmas spirit. 

“Oh. We’ll see, Molly. Thank you, though.” Julian, recovered from the embarrassment of Garak’s comment, but now newly unsure, looked at Miles. “I’ll let your dad know.” 

“Grand,” said Miles. He appreciated Julian’s discretion, but he supposed he had to ask them over now. He’d just check with Keiko first and call Julian after the kids were in bed. Or maybe just send him a message. “Merry Christmas Julian, Garak.”

“Merry Christmas, Miles!”

“Merry Christmas, Chief.” 

“And Garak, if you want Julian to show you how mistletoe works, try replicator pattern Ishikawa 2. Keiko says it’s the most accurate.” 

The door swished shut on two faces, one shocked, the other delighted. Miles shepherded the kids along, tidings of comfort and joy fully realised for another year.

**Author's Note:**

> Headcanon for this story: Christmas is still celebrated by some people on Earth, though not as widely as today. There are only two families on the station with Santa-believing children, and a handful more people who'd recognise Christmas carols. Probably the Siskos, maybe Worf (though I like the headcanon I've seen elsewhere that his foster family are Jewish), maybe a few of the other humans. 
> 
> Of course we know very little about Julian's background, though I tend to assume he's English given his accent (and his dad's), so he's familiar enough with mince pies and Christmas crackers even if his family is Muslim. 
> 
> Irish Christmas tradition is very strongly held (the Irish word for December translates to 'Month of Christmas'), and this lasts into the 24th Century. 
> 
> It's Japanese tradition to have KFC at Christmas (that's not headcanon, that's a true and fascinating fact, look it up), so that's why the O'Briens are having 'Kentucky' for Christmas dinner. 
> 
> There is, canonically, a Peterson family on the station, so I made them the Petersens and they're Danish. I know very little about Danish Christmas traditions, so any Danish readers are encouraged to comment! I may even make changes if I've really messed up.
> 
> Of course it is the height of self-indulgence to assume that any 20th and 21st Century traditions would still be observed in the 24th Century, but isn't that what Star Trek is all about?
> 
> A very warm end-of-December to all my readers, and thank you for all your lovely comments on my recent fics! I promise I will respond to each and every one of them, but there may be a delay due to the season. Trust me, though, I have read them all and they warm my heart!
> 
> And as always, the best present you could give me would be a kudos in my stocking and a comment under the tree!


End file.
